


Destiny

by MerlinWinchestr



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Merlin Memory Month, Merlin confronts Mordred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinWinchestr/pseuds/MerlinWinchestr
Summary: "Your destiny is to kill Arthur."Mordred closed his eyes and took a breath."Yes."





	Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> For Merlin Memory Month March 2018.  
> Prompt Day Three.  
>  _Path I: "Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences._
> 
>  **Category** : AU-Canon Divergance  
>  **Setting:** Post-5X02, Arthur's Bane Part 2  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Mordred  
>  **Rating/Warnings:** K+  
>  **Note:** It has been a very, very long time since I last wrote for _Merlin_ (or, to be quite honest, anything in general) so I hope that the characterization is accurate. This is told primarily from Mordred's point of view and is set two days after he is knighted by Arthur. I hope you enjoy!

# Destiny

"Your destiny is to kill Arthur."

Mordred stiffened, hands freezing over the chain-mail in his lap. He looked up to see Merlin standing stiff and rigid a step or two in the armory, Arthur's armor in a half-open sack at the manservant's feet. Mordred took a deep breath, vainly trying to calm his nerves. He had hoped that Merlin would let him be after their talk immediately after his knighting. To be fair, it had been two days since that talk and both men had been going out of their way to avoid the other. Mordred had hoped that by going to the armory late at night when most of the castle had settled in for the night would ensure his privacy. Obviously Merlin had thought the same. Incredibly uncomfortable, Mordred looked back down at his work and reluctantly answered Merlin's statement. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" Merlin scoffed. "Is that all you have to say?" 

"What would you like me to say, Emrys?" Mordred asked with a sigh. He put his chain-mail to the side and looked up to meet Merlin's accusatory gaze. "I have been told since I was a child that my destiny is to play a part in the Once and Future King's death. You know I cannot deny what the prophecy says any more than you can." 

"So you are here to kill Arthur." Merlin accused, but Mordred was already shaking his head. 

"No. It is like I told you the other day. I believe in Arthur and in the future he will create." 

"Be that as it may, if it is your destiny to kill Arthur, then why do you help him now?"

Mordred remained silent for a moment, trying to piece together the right words. He could see Merlin growing more and more agitated with each passing moment, so he steadied himself and spoke slowly. 

"I do not believe the future is set in stone. There are many prophecies, some of which come true and many more that do not. I never asked to be destined to kill the man I admire, and I refuse to believe that I must follow through with it simply because some old man once said I should." 

A moment passed in silence as Merlin stared at him, absorbing his words. When he replied, it was hesitantly after he was no longer sure of himself or of Mordred. 

"You really believe you can change destiny?"

Mordred shrugged. 

"I do not see how it can hurt to try." 

Merlin didn't reply. Instead, he lifted the sack of armor and made his way to a bench a few feet away from Mordred. He didn't look over at the younger man as he pulled out the dusty breastplate, grabbed a rag, and began polishing the armor. Mordred watched him work for a minute, wondering if he had said something wrong. He knew the manservant didn't trust him, and he couldn't blame him. Few people who knew of his destiny ever trusted him, and the few who did were more interested in exploiting him then giving him a chance to show who he was beyond some prophecy made long before he was born. Privately, he had hoped that Merlin of all people would understand, but he knew that his hopes were dashed more often then not and so it came as no surprise that Merlin couldn't give him a chance, though that didn't mean it hurt any less. 

Shaking these depressing thoughts away, Mordred pulled his chain-mail back into his lap and began repairing the broken links once again. Several minutes passed this way, with both men working in silence and neither looking at the other. The awkwardness was palpable, at least to Mordred, and it took all his self-control to focus on his work and not glance over at the other man. Silence filled the room, and while it was not the most uncomfortable silence Mordred had ever heard, it was not comfortable either. He breathed a sigh of relief as he began to work on the final broken link, grateful that he would soon have an excuse to leave. So lost in his work was he that he almost missed Merlin's question. 

"How old where you when you first learned of your destiny?" 

Mordred hesitated. He was a private person, and what Merlin asked was not a pleasant memory. He had never told anyone of that day, not even his beloved Kara. But if he wanted to be trusted, then he had to start somewhere. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Seven." He forced himself to answer, deciding to tell only the very basics. "The elders believed I should not be told, but Cerdan believed I had the right to know why I was different." 

"Seven?" Merlin repeated, clearly shocked. "You've known you were going to kill a man at seven years old?" 

Mordred shrugged, hoping the movement looked nonchalant, as if the knowledge had been no big deal. 

"I was never your average child. I had to grow up fast after my parents were killed, and Cerdan needed an apprentice, not a child." 

Merlin stared at him, a hint of pity in his eyes and Mordred had to look away. Memories he had locked away struggled to rise to the front, but he pushed them back. Merlin's next question was so quiet Mordred almost missed it. 

"How did you handle it? Knowing you were destined to kill the man who is to bring peace to Albion?" 

"I never really had time to think about it honestly," Mordred admitted, only partially lying. "I started my first apprenticeship right after I was told, and Cerdan kept me busy learning to control my magic. We never stayed in one place long, partially because of wandering soldiers, but mostly because Cerdan could never agree with the elders. And there were always others who had learned of my destiny and wanted to use me for their own ends, so we were constantly on the run. After Cerdan died I was passed from master to master and fell into the wrong crowd more times then I care to remember. By the time I was thirteen it was just a struggle to survive, let alone think about the future and my destiny. And now I..." 

Mordred broke off suddenly, his mouth having gotten ahead of his thoughts. He looked down, unable to meet the older man's gaze, and studied his hands and the almost fully repaired chain-mail. Merlin studied the young man, noting the slight shaking of the knight's hands. He glanced down at the breastplate in his lap, debating whether or not to continue. 

"And now?" Merlin pressed gently, putting the breastplate aside and leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees. 

Mordred sighed, and for a second Merlin thought the knight wasn't going to answer. He could see the conflict flitting across Mordred's face, and Merlin started to speak up and take the question back, but Mordred answered before he could say anything. 

"And now I try not to think of anything but the present. I cannot change the past, no matter how much I want to, and I do not want to believe that I have no choice in my future. All I can do is control the present and do what I think is right." 

Merlin startled, Mordred's words reminding him of something an old friend had once said. It was so long ago, when he first came to Camelot, and the words had not even been directed at him. He had been unconscious at the time, poisoned and dying, but he had asked Arthur what had made him go against his father's wishes for the life of a servant. Merlin smiled sadly. 

"Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences." 

"What?" Mordred asked, not understanding. 

Merlin looked up and shook his head sadly. 

"Someone I once knew said that. I haven't thought of that in a long time."

"They are good words." Mordred said, still not entirely sure where it had come from. 

"They are." 

Merlin glanced down, catching sight of his reflection in the breastplate that lay on the floor. When had he grown so old? What had happened to the boy whom Arthur had gone against his father to save? So much had changed since he first came to Camelot, and he had changed most of all. He looked up from his reflection and saw Mordred looking at him in confusion, and a sudden thought hit Merlin like a hammer on an anvil. Knight he may be, but Mordred could not be any older then he himself had been when he first came to Camelot. No matter his life experience, Mordred was still barely more then a boy. A boy whom he had been treating like the man he was destined to become. 

"They are," he repeated, voice suddenly strong as he stared at Mordred, "And yet I have not listened to them." 

"I don't understand." Mordred said in confusion, startling as Merlin got to his feet, armor forgotten on the floor as he began to pace, his hands tearing at his hair and lost in thought. 

Mordred watched as Merlin seemed to struggle with himself, pacing and running a hand through his hair in exasperation. And then Merlin was no longer moving and was speaking. 

"You are right, Mordred. The future is not set in stone. Regardless of what you are destined to do, I have to do what I think is right and treating you as if you had already killed Arthur is not right. You have already saved Arthur's life once, who is to say you won't do it again? " 

Mordred just stared, not believing what he was hearing. 

"Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences." Merlin repeated, resolved now that what he was doing was right. "And right now, the right thing to do is to give you a chance." 

"Y-you mean it?" Mordred stuttered, standing uncertainly as if Merlin was going to suddenly dissolve and be replaced with a nightmare. 

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. 

"It will take time to trust you," he warned, "and I will never be able to forget what you are destined to do, but I am willing to give you a chance to prove yourself. If you're willing to give me the chance to change." 

Mordred just gaped at him, wondering if he dared hope that Merlin was serious and that this was not just some elaborate trap. 

"And what of destiny?" he asked. 

"If destiny is meant to happen then so bit," Merlin admitted painfully, knowing he spoke the truth no matter how he wished it wasn't. "There is nothing I can do to stop it. But I am not going to help it by pushing you toward your destiny simply because some old man once said I should." 

With that, Merlin extended his hand, offering a chance, if not friendship. Mordred reached out in a daze and took it, unable to keep back the grin that spread across his face. 

"Thank you, Emrys" he said, throwing as much emotion as he could into the words. "For giving me a chance." 

Merlin offered a small smile in return and dropped his hand. 

"If we're going to change destiny," he said slowly, "then I think we can dispense with the Emrys. It's just Merlin." 

Mordred smiled. 

"Thank you, Merlin."


End file.
